


The Adventures of a Small Gargoyle Stan Pines

by RamblesandDragons



Series: Monster Falls [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Monster Falls (Gravity Falls), Angst, Bullying, Chibi Stan, Drunken Shenanigans, Filbrick Pines' Bad Parenting, Fluff, Gen, Protective Gargrunk Stan, Shermie might be a little in over his head, Some angst has been upgraded to, The animal just gets mildly annoyed and nibbled on so it's fine, There is a lot of magical water around Gravity Falls, platonic brotherly bonding, violence against animals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26360803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamblesandDragons/pseuds/RamblesandDragons
Summary: Stan's doing pretty well despite most of his family being turned into monsters. That is until he gets transformed...again.
Series: Monster Falls [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750264
Comments: 40
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What do you do when you want to write more Chibi Stan and Monster Falls? This apparently.  
> You don't have to have read a Man Made of Stone for this to make sense I don't think. the only context you might want is that Shermie knows about the portal incident and is sticking around the shack until they figure out a fix. Stan and Ford are also on the mend with their relationship with a little elder brother encouragement.
> 
> If you want you can follow me on [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ramblesanddragons)
> 
> Thank you again to my wonderful beta reader [Alverann!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alverrann/pseuds/Alverrann)

Even though the ride down to the lab was a lot less depressing than it used to be, Stan still hated it. Too many bad memories. However, a certain furball wouldn’t come up for dinner without someone  _ telling  _ him it was dinner. He’d only show up hours later ready to eat when half the house was asleep. 

They really needed to get an intercom system or something.

Stan found his twin bent over a microscope, Ford’s lion-like tail twitching back and forth. According to the nerd, some people used to believe that a sphinx’s tail was a snake and  _ boy  _ was Stan glad it wasn’t. Honestly, why would a lion-eagle thing need something like  _ that _ ? This whole thing was weird enough without Ford’s tail randomly hissing at things. Stan had already caught his brother hissing like a cat a few times before; he was certainly doing it right then. 

“Problem?”

“ Yessss .” Ford hissed and leaned back in his chair turning towards Stan. He picked up a small vial of water and glared at it for a moment like if he intimidated it enough it would spill its secrets. 

“I thought I found a solution to our condition, but I can’t be sure. This water - from up one of the mountains - has trace amounts of magic in it that reads differently than the water that changed us, but I’m not sure if that means a cure … or something else.”

“Jeez, what’s with all the magic water in this town? Actually, don’t explain it.” Stan smiled as he managed to stop Ford mid-breath. Dinner would be cold by the time Poindexter finished his explanation. 

“Take a break, come to dinner, then you can focus on it after.” The gargoyle began to head back when he caught something in the corner of his eye. A rush of worry surged through him as he realized his brother was about to use himself as a guinea pig. 

“FORD! STOP!”

Ford flinched slightly at the sudden increase in volume and stopped with the vial of water right next to his lips. Stan marched over to the desk and snatched it out of his hands.

“You literally just said you don’t know what this will do, so why the hell were you gonna  _ drink _ it?”

“Sometimes the fastest way to discover–”

“No. Absolutely not. I ain’t letting ya get turned into a bunny or ... whisked off to the  _ fairy  _ world, or something like that!”

Ford stood and knitted his bushy eyebrows together. He made to grab at the vial, but Stan kept it out of his reach, using his own tail to keep Ford back. A growl left the sphinx and a small game of keep away began. Ford tried to reason with Stan while they grappled for the vial.

“Stan to start with I am a grown man ... who can make–humf–his own decisions, thank you very muuuuuch.” Ford continued to argue as he limboed under Stan’s tail. “Finding a cure for the safety of the kids is too important. Sometimes research involves risk- give me the damn vial!” Ford proceeded to try and climb up Stan’s back.

“No-! Ah get off! Ow, watch the hair!”

“Hey, don’t step on my tail!”

Ford began to flap his wings to gain some advantage and tip stan over but Stan used his own to block him out. Before he could get the advantage again Stan did the only thing he could think to do to stop his brother. He poured the water down his own throat.

“ _ Stanley _ !”

“Ahhh. Tastes like dirty pond water. Refreshing.” Stan snarked with a satisfied toothy grin. Ford glared at him and Stan rolled his eyes. “What? You wanted to test it, well now you can watch. If something wacky happens to me that’s fine. You’re the genius here! Can’t risk weird stuff happening to you.”

Ford looked like he wanted to yell some more but stopped. A sad look crossed his face and he sighed. “Do you feel anything?”

“Hungry.” Stan turned to head upstairs, hoping that Ford wouldn’t attempt to pry into the whole feelings thing. Ever since their little confession session with Shermie, talking had become easier. Still, Stan wouldn’t go into all those mushy feelings  _ willingly _ . He hated doing it. It made him feel too  _ exposed _ . It should be easy to tell Ford that after everything that had happened–that Stan would prefer the next disaster to happen to him _ …  _ but then Ford would feel guilty and Sherm would go into his self-worth and blah. 

Just not worth it. 

His twin grabbed one of the journals and followed Stan up to the ground floor, observing him closely. 10 minutes passed, then 20, then dinner was finished, and before long it was time for bed. Stan was still stone. As he pulled himself into the rafters for bed Ford finally conceded that the water was a bust. 

“Eh. You’ll find something eventually, Sixer. Get some rest. And for God’s sake stop trying to drink mystery water!”

Ford agreed to the request, but Stan knew he would break it as soon as he thought he needed to. Everyone in this family was too stubborn for their own good–but that was the pot calling the kettle black. The old man could almost laugh about earlier despite Ford nearly giving him a heart attack. Years ago (or hell even a few weeks ago) that argument would have devolved into insults and fists. What had happened downstairs … it had been more like when they were kids; just getting on each other’s nerves. It was nice to be on better terms, for once. 

Now if Stan could just keep Ford in one piece it would be great. Stan drifted off to sleep wondering how he could keep an eye on his brother without bothering him too much.

_ And Ma said  _ I  _ was the impulsive one. _

...

Shermie yawned as he made his way downstairs. Even though he could sleep as late as he wanted to – being retired as he was - his old man body kept waking him up around six in the morning no matter what he tried. It would at least be another hour before anyone else was awake, but it would give him some time to drink some coffee-

“HEY!”

Shermie stopped at the end of the stairs. He could have sworn he’d just heard ...

“Hey! Whoever’s comin’ down the stairs; I could use a hand here!”

“Stan?”

Shermie rounded the corner into the museum part of the house. In the dark he could barely see the outlines of the displays his brother had created. He fumbled for a lightswitch and finally found one. The room was bathed in a low light.

“Stan, you need to get better lights in here.”

“Hey! Dark lights help with the spooky mood and cover up the stich jobs. Now will you help me?” A high-pitched voice answered.

The eldest Pines brother looked up to where Stan had taken to sleeping at nights but found the spot empty. “Where are you? And why do you sound like you’ve swallowed a balloon of helium?”

“Other side, Sherm.”

He walked to the other side of the support beam and gasped. Hanging by a rafter was a very small gargoyle.

“I woke up and tried to get down like normal but then realized … I was going to jump but I think that would shatter me.”

Shermie shook himself out of the fish impression he was currently doing and reached his arms up for his little brother. Stan still had to fall a bit but Shermie kept him secure when he caught him. Despite being small he was still  _ heavy _ . Placing Stan gently on the floor Shermie got a good look at his brother.

Stanley was still stone but now only about a  foot tall. His head was a bit large for his body and his eyes had become small orange dots. He stretched out his wings with a tiny yawn, revealing that they were also comically large compared to his body. Stan looked like an edgy garden gnome. 

“All right. Thanks. Let’s never mention this again, huh?” Stan said with an embarrassed grumble. 

Shermie just stared at his brother some more.

“Okay, Sherm. This is  _ not  _ the weirdest thing that’s happened to me … maybe the most annoying. Just take a deep breath–”

“... STANFORD!”

“Oh boy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This change is just annoying. In no way does it bother a deeper part of Stan's psyche. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to my wonderful beta reader [Alverann!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alverrann/pseuds/Alverrann)

Stan sat on the table with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. His brothers were staring at him as though he might vanish into thin air. Honestly, he felt fine. Sure, the world was a bit bigger. But nothing hurt, and for a man that had lived a rough life, that was always something to celebrate. Ford took a few notes and measured Stan twice. He could see the gears in his twin’s head working overtime. 

And as if the scrutiny from his brothers wasn’t enough, Stan could hear the kids coming down the stairs, prompting him to let out a heavy sign. He really did enjoy having the kids around, but he also hadn’t sleep well last night, and he knew Mabel was going to lose it over this. 

“Goooood morning, family!” Mabel sang. 

“Not so sure what’s so good about it.” Stan grumbled. 

“Did I just hear someone squeak?” Dipper’s deer ears twitched in the direction of the table. 

“Well, children, something interesting happened to Stan last night.” Ford stepped back to reveal the tiny gargoyle on the table. 

“OH MY GOSH! GRUNKLE STAN, YOU’RE ADROABLE!” Mabel squealed. The mermaid flopped from Dipper’s back and onto a chair to get a closer look. 

“Mabel that flopping around can’t be good for your tai- hey! Put me down!” Mabel had picked him up and pulled him into a tight hug. 

“How can I put you down when you’re an amazing huggable size now?” 

Dipper, for his part, looked equal parts concerned and amused. Honestly the kid had every right to give him a little hell for all the teasing about his height earlier in the summer. All he did though was smile and poke at Stan’s tiny horns "Grunkle Stan, what did you do to get yourself double cursed?" He asked. 

"I'm pretty sure the answer at this point was ‘be born,’ Kid." 

Shermie and Ford shot Stan a look that he ignored in favor of trying to free himself from his niece's death grip. Finally pulling himself out he tumbled back on the table with a high-pitched grunt. 

"I'm going to knit you the most _adorable_ little sweaters," Mabel squealed. 

"I would hold on to your yarn, Mabel. With luck we can fix this quickly; I already have an idea." Ford was flipping to a page in Journal 3 and showed it to Stan. On the worn pages was a drawing of some crystals and notes about size changing properties. Stan vaguely remembered seeing them as he flipped through the page but really he had been mor focused on the portal page. 

"Oh, hold on!" Dipper ran off and leapt up the stairs. A moment later the family heard a crazy tap dance the ended with a loud “Oooff...I’m okay....” Dipper really needed to remember to keep track of all four of those deer legs on the stairs before he killed himself. Out of breath Dipper returned with a flashlight. "Earlier this summer I found them and made a flashlight- … Well this is the second one. We smashed the first one but needed to make another one to de-shrink Soos." 

De-shrink Soos? What had these kids been up to while Stan was working? Mabel started to tell the whole story while Ford examined the flashlight. She got as far as describing Gideon putting them in a jar (These kids were going to give Stan a stroke.) when Ford pointed it to the saltshaker increasing it to the size of a gallon of milk. He then reversed the effect with a flip of the crystal. 

"Very clever design, Dipper! This should work perfectly. Stan if you don't mind." 

Before he got a chance to crawl off the table himself Mabel picked him up in another quick squeeze and then placed him on the floor. He was not going to miss being manhandled. Taking a deep breath and giving his twin a thumbs up Stan could feel the moment the light started to work on him. 

It was a bit dizzying having his body stretch so fast, but it seemed to be working, until he got to about four feet. His wings and head were still too large compared to the rest of his body. Ford realized this and stopped the light before Stan reached five feet in height. Everything was too heavy for the rest of his body to keep up. 

"Goin' down!" He yelled and Shermie just scooped Mabel up in time to avoid Stan crashing into her. There was a wooden cracking noise as Stan's head fell onto the table hard. At least it was the table and not his forehead. He knew with the giant head and wings and small body he looked downright ridiculous. 

"I don't think glue is going to fix that," Stan muttered into the table. 

"That was not the result I was expecting. Fascinating! Even your eyes are still small and round," his twin said as he bent over to get a look at Stan’s face. 

"Ford can ya analyze later? My wings feel like they're about to fall off!" 

His wings were sagging to the floor and he could feel the stretch in his back, and it was not the good kind. Being made of stone helped with a lot of the old age aches and pains but when something hurt it really _hurt_ in this form. Ford re-aimed the flashlight and made an adjustment. Stan began to shrink again. He couldn't pick up his large head until he was close to the size he started off at. Finally, able to sit up the gargoyle grumbled and rubbed his neck. 

"Back to the drawing board, I believe." Ford muttered while looking at the flashlight with frustration. 

"Now can I knit a tiny sweater?" 

"I probably won't wear it but sure go ahead" Stan lied, "But while ya got that can ya shrink me down some other clothes, too?" 

"You would look extra adorable in a little suit and fez," Shermie teased as he set his granddaughter into her motorized fish tank. Stan could feel an embarrassed heat rise to his cheeks as his anger bubbled over. 

"That's it! I'm bitin' the next person who refers to me as adorable and these teeth are sharp!" Stan did indeed still have sharp fangs, but now a bite from him would be closer to a raging kitten instead of a full-grown beast. Shermie was still chuckling and Stan was close to biting him on the hand when the door to the kitchen opened. Soos and Wendy had shown up for their shifts. 

"There you all-! … Are … Mr. Pines?" Soos' mouth dropped as his eyes landed on his tiny employer. Wendy's eyes grew wide and then she fell into a deep laughing fit. 

"Oh my God! I so have to get a picture of this!" She pulled out her phone and Stan made a dive to hide behind Ford. 

"No way! I want no proof of this!" 

"But Mr. Pines, you're so adorable." Soos said enthusiastically. 

"Men my age ain’t 'posed to be adorable!" Stan yelled back. Wendy reached behind Ford and scooped Stan into her arms. 

"Hey! I swear I'll fire you all!" He yelled while he squirmed. 

"Aw chill out, dude. We know you're still the grumpy old codger we all sort of like." 

Wendy then began to scratch the top of Stan's head and he stopped squirming. After a moment he closed his eyes and a slight grumbly purr came from his chest. It was a solid minute before Stan could shake himself out of it. Sure, it was comfortable but this about his pride damnit! 

"Stop that! I'm not a cat!" 

Satisfied that she had thoroughly annoyed her boss the werewolf placed Stan on the ground. He hated this so much. It was really the most annoying thing that had happened. At least with this monster curse he had turned into something cool. Being this small made him feel weak. He wasn’t supposed to be weak! He _couldn’t_ be. How could you be useful to anyone when you were this small? 

“Welp. I’m guessing the shack isn’t going to be holding any tours, right?” Wendy asked. 

“I’m good at hiding stuff, but I got nothing on this. So yeah, shack’s closed.” He had been thinking about it all morning. How could he hold tours when the average person could out pace him at walking speed? Given some time he could rig something up but for today what was the point? He couldn’t do his job like this. 

“See ya!” Wendy gave a casual salute and headed out the door. Before she left she turned to the kids. “Hey I think the gang is headed to the lake. You want to come?” 

“Yes!” Mabel answered enthusiastically. 

“I think I’m going to stay here and help Great Uncle Ford figure this out, if that’s all right.” Dipper said with less conviction than he probably meant to. Stan figured the poor kid was still trying to get over that crush of his. 

“Yeah, just don’t get kidnapped by aliens or make any huge life decisions ‘kay?” Mabel said. 

Stan glanced over to Ford and Dipper who looked a bit sheepish. He never did find out the specifics about why the two of them came back looking so beat a few weeks ago. Or what the kids had been arguing about. 

“Cool,” Wendy said. “Let me know if you need more unicorn hair or something, I’d love to punch those jerks in the nose again. See you at the lake, Mabel.” 

“Hey grandpa would you mind taking me to the lake?” Mabel asked as Wendy headed out. 

“Sure thing. Let’s leave the nerds to do nerd things.” Shermie playfully took his grandson’s hat and ruffled his hair. “If anyone can fix this, it’s them.” 

The family went their separate ways for the day. Stan made his way to the den slowly. From down near the ground he could see just how badly he needed to sweep more. Or how some of the baseboards were stained and cracked. The cleaning spree they had been on a few weeks ago before Shermie and the kid's parents came up hadn’t managed to really do much in the way impacting years of dirt and grime. Maybe while he was this size, he could do it? The thought made him laugh, he really _was_ getting old if he cared about stuff like that. Maybe it was the newfound attachment to the house he had as a gargoyle that made him care so much? 

He decided to leave it be for now. Getting a bucket out of the closet and filling it with water would be a pain right now. He reached the den and passed the axolotl tank. The pink creature came close to him and stared almost like it was amused. 

“Whaddaya looking at?” 

The amphibian just kept smiling and playfully shimmied. Stan grabbed the treats on the bottom shelf next to the tank and tossed one into the tank for the little guy. It happily nibbled at it. 

“Heh. You’re _used_ to being this small. Me? I’m not a fan.” 

The gargoyle turned to face his old recliner. To get to the seat he’d have to put some holes in it with his claws but honestly the thing was already beat up; what difference would a few holes make? Even so maybe he could jump up? With a leap Stan managed to almost reach the seat and then promptly bounced off of it. Landing with a huff he opened his eyes to see the axolotl staring at him. 

“You had better not be laughing,” Stan muttered. 

“Hey, Mr. Pines?” Soos appeared around the corner and found Stan on the ground. “Uhh, whatchya doing?” 

“Spending time with my pet?” 

“I bet you’d feel better sitting on the recliner. Here.” Soos gently picked Stan up and placed him in the recliner. Stan wiped the mud from his shoulders. No matter how hard the poor kid tried he was a mud monster and mud got everywhere. It was annoying. 

“I could’ve made it up here just fine, ya’know,” Stan snapped. 

“Oh, I know.” Soos said with a gentle smile. Stan instantly felt bad about snapping at the kid. Why Soos had attached himself to Stan confused the old man to this day. Soos was soft and emotional while Stan was … not. 

“So why are you so, like, extra grumpy about this? Me? I think it would be cool to be all small. I enjoyed the afternoon I had being all small. Gave me a new perspective on life.” 

How could the old man explain it? He didn’t really mind the extra attention although he could do without the babying. He just felt so useless and weak. Yeah that was it. How useful could he be like this? What if something else weird and dangerous happened? How the hell could he even help anyone like this? 

“It’s a dignity thing,” he finally muttered out. 

“Mr. Pines none of us think less of you- … or I guess _small_ of you,” Soos said. 

“Ha ha ha,” Stan said dryly. “You’re a _riot_ Soos. Just let me sleep and I’ll be less of a pain.” 

Soos gave Stan a pat on the head. “Okey-doke, Mr. Pines. I’ll be around doing some work. Yell if you need anything.” 

Stan grunted, wiped off his head, and settled into the recliner. He flipped through the channels until he reached the ‘Used to be about History Channel.’ Something about aliens was on. That reminded him he had to ask Mabel what that alien joke was about. About halfway through the show his eyelids started to droop. He really hadn’t slept that well the night before. 

Stan was 11 or maybe 12 sitting in his family’s kitchen in Jersey, an ice pack to his face. His father was looking down on him disapprovingly. Nothing unusual about that really. 

“If you’re going to pick fights, at least don’t pick ‘em with kids that are bigger than you. You look like hell.” Filbrick muttered. 

“I don’t pick the fights! Those jerks pick on Ford and then start to hurt him, so I hurt ‘em back!” Stan said defiantly. 

“You aren’t hurting anyone if you come back looking like that. A real man isn’t that _weak_. You ain’t doing Ford any favors by helping him either. Let him fight his own fights.” 

“NO!” Stan yelled as he stood. His father shot him a warning glance from behind his glasses. The boy sat again and pressed the ice back to his face. “He’s my brother. I’m supposed to protect him.” 

Fillbrick snorted, “Well you’re doing a shit job of it.” 

The scene changed. Stan was older but still in about the same shape. Maybe worse. He panted as he hid behind the shipping crate and prayed to something that the goons after him would go the other way. He could hear their feet on the gravel as they roamed the lot looking for him. 

_Crunch._

“Hey 8-Ball! Come on out. We just want to talk.” 

_Crunch._

“Yeah you talk like some big tough guy, but that’s all it is, right? _Talk_. Come out and face us like a man. Prove me wrong!” 

_Crunch._

_Okay Stan,_ h e thought to himself. _Take a deep breath and face ‘_ _em_ _. What other choice you got? You’re not a coward. You’re not weak. You can do this._

Turns out he could do it. _Barely_. He spent the next three days patching himself up while driving as far and fast as he could. Not like going to a hospital was an option anyway, but he didn’t need it. He could handle it. 

The scene changed again. He was three days into having sent his twin to God knows where. He desperately pounded on the metal of the machine as if he could force it to turn on out of fear of him. After getting to the point where his knuckles bled, he collapsed onto the floor of the lab. 

He was too dumb to figure this out. Ford was the smart one. Stan was just fucking useless. Help. That’s what the con man needed. He would ask for it too, if only he knew who to ask. There was that triangle that kept showing up when he passed out, but Stan was certain that it was his brain coming up with crazy stuff. That thing sounded way too much like him when he was pulling a con. 

Suddenly it was an early morning in late fall. Stan stood in the shadows of the high school and watched the scene unfold in front of him. Soos’ lip was quivering as an older kid with his groupies ransacked his lunch box. Nice to know high school bullies still liked to go for the classics. Take the freshman’s lunch. 

“I’ll say, man, you do bring some good food!” The bully sneered. 

“My abuelita makes it for me,” Soos muttered. 

“What the hell is an abuelita?” The punk asked harshly. 

Okay that was enough. Stan pulled himself up to his full height and stepped from where he was watching. “OI!” 

Everyone’s head snapped to him. “Oh hi, Mr. Pines. What are you doing here?” Soos asked with a false chipperness in his voice. 

“You left this at work yesterday. Noticed it this morning and I was already headed this way. Thought you might need it.” Stan tossed Soos the textbook he had slipped from the kid’s bag yesterday after hearing him talk to his abuelita about his _problem_. 

“What do we have here?” Stan asked with a grin as he loomed over the teens. 

“What’s it to you, old man?” The head kid snaped. 

“Oh, nothing.” Stan said, his voice low with just a hint of danger, “Just thinking I might have some subjects for a new display. Tell me, whaddaya know about taxidermy?” Stan finished by leaning down to meet the bully in the eye. He smiled as the kid gulped a little bit. 

“Man, you are _weird,_ just like my dad said.” The bully tossed Soos his lunch and left quickly. 

Satisfied that Soos was all right, Stan adjusted his suit and turned to leave. Soos was staring at him in awe. Jeez, this kid had really picked the wrong guy to look up to. 

“Mr. Pines...” 

“Remember,” Stan said, interrupting any mushy sentiment about to happen, “Shack’s closed today so I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Oh, uh, okay? But where are you headed off to? You never said.” 

“Need to pick up some stuff for a new display. See ya.” 

Stan made his way to the car before Soos could ask more questions. He sat satisfied in the car for a moment while he watched the kid happily head into school as the bell rang. _God_ if only it had been that easy with Ford. Being a big guy came in handy. Intimidating asshole kids was a breeze, now. Maybe his twin wouldn’t have felt the need to prove himself so hard. Maybe that portal would have never been built. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Stan shook his head and drove off. Those portal parts weren’t going to steal themselves. 

He had been so caught up in the portal he was almost too late. Would he have even noticed if it weren’t for whatever weird gargoyle alarm system he had in his head? The dead were everywhere. Stan ripped and tore his way through them but it still wasn’t enough - there were too _many_ of them. He was made of _stone,_ damnit, how was this still a struggle? He was scared. More so than he had ever been in his life. He was the only thing standing between those kids and the man-eating creatures slowly encircling him and he was too weak to save them ... 

Stan shot up like a bullet. There were no zombies surrounding him, no thugs out to get him, no bullies or his pa. Just him and the axolotl in the den. It felt like his heart was going to burst right out of his tiny chest. Dragging his hands across his face with a grinding noise he swallowed back a wave of nausea. His family was currently safe, but with his luck that could change at any moment, and when it did ... 

He’d let them all down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the comments: Awww this is so cute.  
> Me looking at my outline: Yeahhhhhh about that....sorry?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a little of Ford and Shermie's perspective because Stan wont remember a damn thing in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to my wonderful beta reader [Alverann!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alverrann/pseuds/Alverrann)

There was no going back to sleep after that round of nightmares. Stan figured he could at least get some of the more clerical work of running the shack done today. Since Ford has come back there had been other things on his mind. Despite what many people would think The Mystery Shack was a legitimate business, and with that came paperwork. Of course, he did fudge the paperwork here and there when he needed to, but it was still a real business!

Getting to the top of the desk was a little trickier than he figured it would be. He hopped onto the chair but nearly slipped. His paperwork was in organized chaos, and he kept slipping over the chaos part of it. When he was his normal size again (Stan  _ had  _ to believe he would get back to normal or he’d start to lose it) the con man figured it would be time for a cleaning spree.

The paperwork was boring, but it got his mind off the fact that he was currently only a foot tall. All of this would be useless if Ford ever pushed on closing the shack like he’d originally demanded. Stan rubbed a hand through his grey hair as he thought of what his other options could be if things were shut down. Taking a deep  breath he was glad that his twin (for now at least) had backed down from that idea since he’d arrived.Pug smuggling would be difficult as a supernatural creature about the size of your average pug.

Time ticked away and the sunlight in the office steadily became weaker. As the sun fully set Stan could tell his brother and niece had returned home. The smell of something delicious wafted into the office from the kitchen and  t he old  man started the long process of climbing of the desk. His claws dug into the wood, and he got about halfway down when  Shermie popped his head into the room.

“There you are. You know if you wanted to you could probably become the hide a seek champion of the world like this.”

“No thanks. Unless there’s a reward.”

Shermie laughed and picked up his brother from the edge of the desk.

“Hey, I can make it on my own, thanks.” Stan grunted.

“Just accept the help, you stubborn blockhead.” Shermie said as he carried Stan into the kitchen.

Stan snarked back that was Shermie being the blockhead as he was set onto the table. Mabel proceed to fill Stan in on her day while Shermie drug Dipper and Ford up for dinner. The little gargoyle realized that he hadn’t eaten today when his stomach let out a large growl. Eagerly he tore into the cheeseburger in front of him. However, after about four bites he was full. He hadn’t even touched the fries yet! Normally he could eat two burgers easily. Well, leftovers weren't a bad thing.

Soos had joined them for dinner and after he finished his food, he glanced at the kitchen clock. "Hey! I almost forgot! The new Adolescent Hybrid Samurai Frogs movie comes out tonight. You little doods want to come see it with me?"

"Yes!" Dipper and Mabel cheered.

"If that's okay with you Mr. Pines … and Mr. Pines … and Dr. Pines."

"Soos, at this point I really think it's okay to call me  Shermie ," The eldest Pines chuckled.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Pines."

The kids headed off for the evening. Stan had no idea what these Samurai Frogs were, but they couldn’t be as bad as Mabel’s normal movie choice. Probably a lot less bright. The twins wouldn't be back until late so the three brothers figured it would be a good night play  cards . Stan could certainly use a drink even if it was just a  beer . It was hard for Stan to hold all his cards in his hand and drink but that didn't stop him from beating his brothers.

"Well I'm afraid I've made no progress on either condition," Ford said with a deep drink of his own beer. "I think I'm going to have to make a trip back to where I found the water sample. Perhaps if I go further up into the mountains, I can find the source. The problem is that I promised Mabel that we would go exploring around the lake for possible monster cures tomorrow.”

"Really? Mabel isn't into this stuff s'much." Stan slurred.

"No, but I am working on not letting her feel so left out. The last time I took Dipper out on such a mission it ended up with them arguing and her feeling rejected."

Stan took another drink of his beer, "Good. Go with her." If Ford was hanging out with Mabel maybe he would be less reckless. Not that Mabel couldn't be wild, but the nerds fed off each other's curiosity and enthusiasm. Plus, they would be at the lake and there was nothing too crazy out there. Well, Stan at least  _ hoped  _ that was the case.

“Yes, but what about you, Stan?” Ford asked.

“I can go and get magic water,  ya’know .” Stan muttered. He drank again. The beer was  mostly gone .

“I know you can, but in this state ...”

“Ford, how about tomorrow you go with Mabel and I’ll go with Stan and Dipper. Divide and conquer?”  Shermie said.

“I suppose you could carry Stan but it would be better if he stayed here.”

“ _ Why  _ would I stay here? I can handle  muself . I’ll prove it to you!”

The last thing Stan would remember the next morning was tumbling off of the table.

...

Shermie and Ford fumbled to catch their brother but missed. The gargoyle tumbled and then scurried away to the next room.

“Ford, how much did he have to drink?”  Shermie said with a grunt as he pulled himself off the floor.

“Just one beer I think but maybe that’s enough.”

As they went to go find their inebriated brother a memory came back to Ford. It was their 16th birthday. Stan had somehow managed to grab ahold of some whiskey and the two of them had sat on the half-built Stan of War to enjoy the evening. Stan became tipsy and started getting reflective and introspective. Ford had stopped at that  point, but Stan kept going. By the end of the night Ford was having to convince his thrill-seeking brother not to break into the fair by the pier to ride the roller coaster.

When Stan was  _ this _ drunk, he thought he was invincible. Apparently, that hadn’t changed in 40 years. Ford picked up his pace searching for Stan, cursing himself for not realizing that the knucklehead’s blood alcohol level at a foot tall would go up must faster than normal. Shermie took the lower levels of the house and Ford took the top. Panic welled in him thinking about what his brother would do to prove himself. It was then that his lion-like ears picked up a noise. Something heavy was walking in the roof. Ford made it to the closest window and pushed it open. Just in the corner of his eye the sphinx saw a small stone creature scurrying around.

“SHERMIE, HE’S ON THE ROOF!” Ford roared . He climbed out of the window in pursuit of his twin. What was Stan thinking? Wasn’t he afraid of heights? Ford reached the roof in time to see Stan attempting to flap his wings hard enough to take off. It was a miracle he was still in one piece at this point.

“Stan,  stop ! You’re still too heavy to fly!” Ford cried as he tried to leap over to his brother while not falling off the roof himself.

“If I can’t fly, why I got wingsss? Look I’ll show you I can fly and that I’m not useless ‘kay?”

“Stan, no!”

His twin leapt off the roof . On all fours the sphinx ran to the edge and leapt after him.

...

What Sherman Pines saw as he ran outside was a small figure jump off into the night followed by a larger figure. They almost seem to hang in place for a moment, silhouetted by the full moon. The larger of the two flapped its wings once, then twice. It caught the smaller one in its jaws by the shirt. Tucking itself into a ball the larger creature landed and rolled onto the ground.

“Ford! Stan! Holy  _ Moses _ !”  Shermie ran over to help his brother back to his feet. Hanging from Ford’s mouth was a very dazed looking Stan. Despite the sheer panic of the past few minutes the old man couldn’t help a nervous giggle at the absurd sight of Stan scuffed up like an angry kitten. Stan was yelling a string of obscenities as Ford released him before catching him tightly in his hands.

“Sixer, I  wassss fine!”

Ford turned his twin to face him. His hair was bristled with frustration. “Look, I don’t know  _ why _ we can’t fully fly - I realize it would be convenient, but I theorize that legitimate gargoyles and sphinxes have the same issue. They glide on the winds and nothing more, unless they have hollow bones, which we do not! I checked.” 

“B-but imagine how cool it would be to be able to fly! Heh, I just got a great idea. You and me could do a bit for the tourists. I look like a devil and you got feathers. We could shrink you down and I’ll be the devil on their shoulder, and you’ll be the angel.”

Shermie watched as Ford’s anger deflated at the idea of being compared to an angel.

“It’s you and I, Stan. Also, me?  An angel? Hardly.”

Stan’s rambling on about his new idea seemed to quell the anger over not having been allowed to shatter himself. Ford carried him all the way to the den, Shermie on their heels.

“Ford, sit there and make sure he stays there. I’m going to get cleaned up for bed and then I’ll watch him.”

“Not a baby.” Stan muttered. He let out a large yawn as Ford tiredly flopped into the yellow recliner.

Shermie rolled his eyes as he cleaned up the remains of their poker game. After changing and washing for bed the eldest Pines brother returned but was happy to find he wasn’t needed.

Ford was dead asleep in the recliner and Stan was asleep on his chest. Both seemed to be making low grumbly noises as they slept. Shermie made himself comfortable on the floor and watched some television until Soos dropped the kids back off close to midnight.

“O.M.G!” Mabel scream-whispered. She immediately pulled out her camera ( apparently she always had it on her; Shermie wondered how she kept it from getting wet.) to snap several photos.

“What happened to  _ them _ ?” Dipper asked, amused.

“They got tired. Reminds me of when they were little. They were always using each other as pillows. Kind of like how you and Mabel do.”

After Mabel took about 100 photos  Shermie sent them away to bed. He settled into the side of the recliner knowing full well he would regret it in the morning, but he wanted to be close incase Stan had a bad reaction. Admittedly this was nice. He fell asleep to memories of three boys hanging around a couch watching Wagon Train to the Stars on a small black and white TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't tell me Stan "I'm teaching a bear to drive" Pines wouldn't be a crazy thrill seeker when wasted. 
> 
> Ending with a small Stan snoozing with Ford inspired by [darylstorey!](https://darylstorey.tumblr.com/post/627732374282813440/playing-around-with-a-new-program-got-inspired-by)


End file.
